


Only One Chance

by nchi_wana



Category: Et Cetera (Manga)
Genre: Afterlife, Gen, Near Death Experience, Post-Canon, Siblings, Spirits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:33:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nchi_wana/pseuds/nchi_wana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baskerville has a precious opportunity with the spirit of his late sister.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only One Chance

**Author's Note:**

> I suppose you could call this a missing scene from my fic _The Zodiac Vendetta_.

The only sound Baskerville could hear was his own breathing. He couldn’t see anything, yet everything was white. His body was invisible to him, but he could feel it was there. The space he was in felt open and vast, and at the same time it closed in, pressing on him. There were the gazes of thousands of eyes. He knew they were there beyond his sight, behind a veil of light.

Where was he? How did he get here?

A memory trickled back to his mind. The images flowed into him like slow rivulets of water, drifting into his brain to pool and reconstruct the story.

He’d been shot. He at least remembered that much. But it had been so fast that he hadn’t had time to feel surprised. The world had gone suddenly black, until his consciousness detected the pinpoint of light, and he’d felt himself pulled into it. His being was engulfed in it, but then he’d stopped. Something wasn’t right. It was all wrong. Why hadn’t he gone further? The glow was so beautiful, so peaceful. He wanted to stay in it. He anticipated crossing over an imperceptible threshold, one that would bring him into an indescribable bliss. Someone was waiting for him.

The wait was agonizing. Wouldn’t they let him in? Hadn’t his repentance in life been enough? Were they going to reject him now?

Who were “they” anyway?

The eyes watched without answering.

Baskerville was aware of the whiteness shifting, flickering, and then dimming as another light appeared in front of him. It was difficult to tell the distance. Maybe it was a few feet away, maybe it was miles away. He wasn’t sure. But it was warm. He knew this presence. Who…?

“Brother?”

Baskerville found he couldn’t speak, but not because he was incapable. Emotion clenched his throat, and it took a moment for it open up again. “Ch…Chisel? Is that you?” His voice was hoarse, and he sounded terribly exhausted.

“Brother, what are you doing here?” she asked with concern. Was she surprised?

“I’m not really sure,” Baskerville answered. He focused on the shape that shined brighter than the surrounding whiteness. He couldn’t see her form, but he wanted so desperately to see her face. When had he last heard her voice like this? His heart was full to bursting. If only he could see her!

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Chisel said. “Not yet, anyway.”

Then the final pieces to his memory returned. He was on a secret mission of sorts. That’s how he ended up here. Before being shot, he’d been dueling Blush. He’d had to keep the true motive of the duel from his friends so they would act accordingly, and convincingly. The plot had been genius, really, but he’d been hesitant at first. Getting killed on purpose, even with a guarantee that he would be resurrected, wasn’t something that was easy to do. His only concern was what would happen to Mingchao and Benkate while he was dead. What would Blush do? Would Fino act before the mercenary could harm them?

“Chisel, I can’t stay,” he said with sadness. “I want to, but…” How would he get back? There was a plan for that, too. He just couldn’t quite remember what it was. “I…have to go back.”

“I know,” Chisel said gently.

As he faced her, Baskerville felt a faint tugging on his being, dragging him back. The ring. He’d been wearing the ring during the duel. It was returning him to life. He had little time left.

 “No, wait! Wait just a second!” he begged. “Chisel, when you were sick, it was because of me.” The tugging became more insistent. He fought it. “It wasn’t medicine! It was my fault you died, and I’m so sorry!” He struggled against the pull, pushing forward and keeping his gaze riveted on the soft glow of his sister’s soul. “I never meant for it to happen. They deceived me! And I did terrible things just to get those drugs to you. Please, forgive me. Please!” He needed to hear her say it. It was something that haunted him day in and day out. He refused to leave until it she said it. This was his only chance.

“I already did,” Chisel said. Her voice was distorted as the world around them warped. “I forgave you a long time ago. I’ve seen the good things you’ve done since then.” She paused. “You need to let go now. You have to go back.”

“But—“ Baskerville strained against the current. “But what about you? Are you all right here?”

“You still have something you need to do. It’s imperative that you do it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I miss you, Brother. I’ll see you again someday.”

“But what did you mean? What is it I need to do?!”

“I love you.”

Baskerville tried to speak again, but the pull overwhelmed him. The white world tore away like paper being sucked through a hole, and he was tossed back into the darkness.

He took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and saw the sunlit sky. His friends were waiting for him.

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